An Unexpected Meeting
by LifeisSupernatural500
Summary: Crowley finds a girl in the storage room, and he grows quite fond of her; set in Season 8. Rated T for language. Charity is property of me! Please review!
1. Chapter 1

Crowley sighed as he walked heavily into the room he currently occupied as his own. He was totally burnt out. Footsteps echoed in the metal halls. Quite the dilemma was present: none of the people he had taken were prophets, except Kevin. But he needed the translation done faster, so he wanted two prophets. He hadn't been this tired since the whole Apocalypse ordeal. Once he made it there, Crowley sat on a chair in his room, a.k.a. the storage room. Shelves and shelves of various books and torture devices lined the walls. He would probably need those later. He appreciated the quiet of the room as he sighed. Suddenly, he heard ragged breathing coming from the trap door that was hidden under one of the shelves. Who could have possibly slipped past him and into his hideout? Crowley reluctantly got out of his chair, walked across the floor, effortlessly pushed the shelf back, and opened the black trap door.

"Who's here?" he said roughly, hoping to scare them so they would be easier to cooperate with. He stepped down into the small room, putting his hands into his pockets and searching around the place. The air was deathly cold, and dust floated everywhere. Crates, blankets and hay lay strewn about the floor, but one of the blankets was rising up and down slowly. The ragged breathing had turned into what sounded like the beginnings of a sneeze.

"A...A..._ACHOO!_ Aw, darn it." a small, raspy voice whispered. Crowley marched over and ripped the blanket off of the little stinker. A young teenage girl, about 21, lay on the floor as she held her hands to her forehead. Her face was glistening with perspiration, and her face was beet red. Dark brown hair framed her delicate oval face, with green eyes to go with it. Ripped blue jeans and a navy blue shirt stood out against the stone floor.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" Crowley questioned gruffly, forcing the girl up to her feet.

"Help...I'm about to...pass..." she took one last shuddering breath and she fell limp in his arms. Crowley sighed. He was too mind-tired to interrogate her now. The girl's face looked peaceful as she was dragged unconscious up the stairs by the demon.


	2. Chapter 2

Charity bolted upright into sitting position, perspiration sliding down her face. Where was she? She looked around the room, and noticed that all the walls were stone. Why did she have to agree to that stupid dare?! When she got out of here, she was gonna go on a killing rampage. Charity held the thin, scratchy sheets up to her face. She was beginning to have a panic attack again. The rasping of the door opening to her left caused her to yelp loudly.

"Good morning, darling." greeted a tall (well, tall for her) man, strolling to the end of the bed and standing there. His face was quite beautiful, with a slightly prominent chin and stubble on his face. His all black suit seemed to blend in with the dark gray walls. Stunningly clear green eyes concentrated on hers.

"W-who in the heck are you?" she asked in a very shaky voice.

"I should be asking you that question." he said in a very smooth British accent.

Suddenly, he drew out a long silver blade and quickly cut her wrist with it. She whimpered in pain, and she nearly yelled,

"What in the hell was that for?!"

"Just... making sure." the man said.

"_Awww, man._" Charity thought.

The man walked over to the desk in the corner of the room, sat in the chair, and propped his legs up on the table.

"Spill." he said simply. "Why do you keep stuttering so much?" He thought now was a good time for interrogation.

"Well, I have moderate asthma, and when I get really nervous or scared, I have a freaking asthma attack and sometimes it makes me pass out." So _that's_ the reason for the passing-out.

"I'll have you know I carried you up the stairs." he said as if it was nothing. Charity's cheeks flushed as she imagined this man carrying her wimpy self up the stairs.

"Really? Sorry." she mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear. She sighed, then said,

"Well, I guess I should tell you how I got here, Mr...uuhhh..."

"The name's Crowley." he said, thrumming the tip of his shiny black shoe against the wall. "And you are..."

"Oh! My name is Charity Addams, and I'm 20."

Crowley seemed intrigued now, and he said,

"Go on. Tell me how you got here, love." Charity inhaled, then said,

"OK, so it all started at my friend's sleepover..."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I just REALLY wanted to thank you guys for following and favoriting this! I appreciate that. I didn't expect people to like it this much. Please remember to review, and enjoy Chapter 3! **

FLASHBACK (Charity's POV)

I snuggled down into the blue sleeping bag I had brought over. After an afternoon of playing video games, eating popcorn, talking about guys, and doing each other's hair, we were all pretty tired. School was out for the next two weeks because of renovation, so we took advantage of it. My friend, Annabel, slept on my right while my other friend, Elise, snored on my left. I blew my long dark bangs up out of my face. The full moon cast an eerie light on the pink shag carpet. Stars were hanging in the sky like small flecks of seafoam on a rock. I closed my heavy eyes as sleep washed over my body.

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I woke up to Annabel prodding me in the ribs with a freakin' fork. She was already decked out in some jeans, sweater and cardigan. It WAS fall, after all. "Come ON, Chare-Chare! You promised me you would come with me to that old abandoned warehouse thing! I think it's a warehouse, anyway..." Her blonde hair fell over her face as she continued to assault me with the fork.

"All right! Geez louise! I could've rolled over and died." I said in an irritated tone as I heaved myself out of the warm sleeping bag. I reached for my bag and lazily pulled some clothes out of it.

"I'll wait for ya outside!" Annabel said as she walked out the door. I washed my face with some cold water to wake me up, then got dressed in some jeans, a navy blue sweater, and my Converse. I rushed downstairs and grabbed an apple from the basket on the table for breakfast. Elise, Annabel, and the cold fall wind greeted me as I stepped outside. The road stretched out in front of us, the land spreading out as far as the eye could see. You could see the ominous warehouse over in the distance.

"Oh, I almost forgot something." said Elise, running back inside. She came back out with three massive bottles of water.

"My God, woman. How the hell did you carry all of these at the same time?" I commented, almost dropping my water from the sheer weight of the thing.

"Hey. It's a long way." she responded as she skipped down the road. So Annabel and I walked after her.

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The warehouse loomed in front of us, the gray walls seeming huge against the already gray sky. Leaves swirled around us. The big opening, which we assumed was for trucks, gaped in front of us. Annabel had already downed her whole bottle of water, Elise had dropped hers in the mud-fulled ditch along the way, and I was still grasping mine in my hand.

"Okay, ladies. You know what the drill is. We dare one of us to go in, if they don't we go back and torture them with episodes of General Hospital." Annabel said in an authoritative tone as she stood with her hands on her hips. Elise's mousy brown hair whipped behind her as she shivered. I did too, not because of the cold, but because of the price you had to pay for not going in.

"This week, Charity has to go in, because that's the rotation for this week." Annabel shoved me towards the hole. I stood there for a good five minutes before I bravely set a foot forward and stumbled in. I could hear them laughing at the top, and it gradually lessened until it was utterly silent.

"Guys?" I said shakily, my voice echoing off the walls. I walked back up the slope, but my friends were no longer there. I could feel my asthma working on a panic attack. They were DEFINITELY going to die when I got out of here! My breath was ragged as I shivered once again, wrapping my arms around my thin frame. All righty, then. No going back, or I'd have to face the consequences.

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I continued walking around for what seemed like hours. At times I saw guys who looked pretty evil and beefed up, so I avoided them. I didn't want to have my head bashed in! I also noticed that their eyes were completely black; no whites. Finally, I same upon a room that had at least SOME sign of civilization: a chair and desk in the corner, along with a bed on the other side. Shelves were lined along the front of the room. They were filled with knives, shackles, handcuffs, axes, and other stuff that looked like murder weapons.

"Where am I? Freakin' Michael Myers's house?" I whispered to myself, not wanting to take chances on anyone hearing me. That's when I noticed a little small corner of what looked like a trap door poking out from under one of the metal shelves. I summoned up whatever strength I had in my skinny arms, and pushed the thing aside. It slid quietly across the floor without so much as a scrape. Suddenly, I heard screams come from a ways down the hall, and then I lifted the trap door and hightailed it in there. But then I remembered to go back up and slide the shelf back over the door as best as I could. Blankets were scattered on the floor. I lay down on the stone and wrapped one of them around my shoulders. My God, it was cold in there; colder than outside. Then, I heard even more screams come. One of them sounded like a young kid. That's when I started to panic. Again. I was probably gonna die in a murderer's basement. I could hear footsteps coming into the room. My heart was racing like a rabbit, and my head started to pound.

"Who's there?" said a rough, British-accented voice. Was he the murderer? I began to get really hot and sweaty, despite the chilly air. I covered my body as well as I could with the blanket. Now it was stuffy in here, my heated face getting hotter by the second. I brought my hands up to my burning forehead. My heart was probably beating a million times per second. I could hear the shelf being rolled out of the way and the door being opened. Shoes clicked on the floor as the man got closer. A dust particle got up my nose, and I began to take long gasping breaths as I prepared to sneeze.

"A...A..._ACHOO_! Aw, darn it." I whimpered as the blanket was whisked off of me.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" the man questioned in a rough tone, dragging me to my feet. My vision was so disorientated I couldn't see what his face looked like. I didn't even care who he was at this point; all I knew was that I was going to pass out.

"Help...I'm going to...pass..." I finally passed out, falling into his arms.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here is the long awaited Chapter 4! **

**OMG, I LOVE you guys, I honestly do! Over 720 views, 11 faves, and 12 followers?! I didn't expect it to be liked this much. I honestly thought this story was crap at first, but I'm gonna continue it for you guys' sake! Supernatural plushies and chocolate to you!**

**Enjoy Chapter 4. :3**

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Crowley listened intently as Charity told her story. He hadn't realized exactly how scared she had been. For some reason, he felt something... different with her. He couldn't really describe the feeling. As she ended her tale, he stretched his arms and legs out and got out of the chair. Charity stopped speaking, looking at him with a frightened look in her eyes.

"What?" he said, putting his hands in his pockets.

"I-I don't know why I'm even comfortable with you right now. I heard people screaming down the hall! How do I know you're not gonna do anything to me?" Charity really didn't know why she had told Crowley, whom she hadn't even known for five minutes, her name and everything!

Crowley turned to face her, and looked at her. She shrank back a little.

"Where did all that defiance go, darling?" he asked, feigning a hurt appearance.

"Oh, whatever. Let me go!" She tried to get up, but she was still weak from the passing out. Charity wanted to get up so badly, but it felt like... like some invisible force was pinning her down.

"I will let you go when I want to, love." Crowley growled, facing the wall. He wanted to shove the tablet into her face and ask her to translate it, but he still didn't know if she was a prophet.

"You're a demon." she said shakily from behind. He whirled around to face her, putting his hands into his pockets.

"Excuse eh moi?" Crowley replied, walking a bit closer. Charity was curled up on her side, trying to fight off sleep.

"You HAVE to be a demon...you're so evil..." And with that, she drifted off to an uneasy slumber. Crowley scoffed, then strolled out the door closing it behind him.

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Kevin sighed as he sat at the table, blood still covering his body. Why did Crowley always have to take things so far when it was absolutely un-needed? He really hated to be wanted by the King of Hell, being a prophet and all. When he heard footsteps coming down the hall, he prepared himself for the worst. But Crowley just walked in and sat down at the table.

"C-Crowley?" Kevin whispered shakily.

"Shut up, Kev, I have to think." Crowley put his head in his hands and shut out the outside world. He focused on the girl, and on what he felt with her. It felt warm and lovely, like a fire not hot enough to burn but hot enough to give off heat. Was it... was it love? "No, no it's not, Crowley get a hold of yourself!" he hissed to himself under his breath. He couldn't love a human even if his life depended on it. It was forbidden, even in his book. Love could... take him down from his throne and to a place where only a few had gone before: humanity.

"What was that?" Kevin asked the demon, leaning forward a little but not too close.

"I gotta go." And with that, Crowley pushed back from the table and went to the storage room, shutting and locking the door behind him. Kevin was definitely a little confused. Why did he just get up and leave like that? He took a dry piece of his t-shirt and wiped a bit of blood off his mouth and eyes. Sighing, he leaned back and thought. It was Crowley; he was unpredictable.

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Charity ran and ran from the thing chasing her, her breath coming in short gasps. She had to get AWAY from this monster, this thing similar to a hound. The red eyes and the huge body pounded towards her, and she was starting to realize there was no way out. Suddenly, she collided into a brick wall and fell to the ground. They were now in an alleyway, and she was at a dead end. She started to have a panic attack, her chest heaving and feeling so lightheaded it was almost ridiculous. The hound closed in, saliva dripping from its huge blood-stained mouth. Charity closed her eyes and waited for the teeth to bite down on her.

"BACK OFF!" A male voice yelled at the dog. It whipped around to face the owner of the voice, and it was...

"Crowley?" Charity whispered to herself. She kicked back until she had her back on the wall. Crowley looked back at her, smiled, and vanished along with the hound.

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**So, there you guys go! The next chapter will go a little more in depth about Charity and her life, plus she'll probably be up and about too! Thank you again for following and favoriteing this, you are the best. See you in the next chapter. :D**


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